It’s Sixty-two Degrees Morning Coffee Muses

There is nothing like being greeted on a cool morning by a wet dog in your lap. Before she goes running off to greet someone working on the house next door. I worry about her proclivity to run into the road. We’re not as peaceful as we were when last we had a free ranging dog around here.

The hummingbirds are feisty this morning. There’s a male rubythroat bouncing from the chaste tree to the feeder in front of me and back over and over again. He even gets dive bombed from the pecan tree by a female.

There’s a woodpecker talking in the oaks. I haven’t seen it yet so I have no idea of which type. A titmouse just hit the seed feeder… now a pair.

The woodpecker is a small little downy in the mimosa tree.

And the hummingbird battles rage on right in front of my face…

A mourning dove just landed under the feeder. Now two. And three. And four… five. And the pooch wants petting.

Saw blades whine, compressor hums, the roofers pound nails, the soundtrack of next door.

The pooch moved, doves flew.

I need some more coffee…